


Your Father's Son

by hawkstout



Series: Hawkstout's Midnight Madness Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Age Reversal, Batman And Robin - Freeform, Bruce Wayne is a Dick, Destined to be, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 23:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkstout/pseuds/hawkstout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian Wayne is a great assassin. He's become his own man and has gotten out from under the shadow of his Mother and Grandfather. All that's left is to confront his past, meet the Father he never knew. </p><p>He doesn't find Bruce Wayne, instead he finds Dick Grayson, his Father's ward who needs his help. </p><p>Damian's not the helping type, but Dick Grayson is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Father's Son

**Author's Note:**

> Okay rubitan this is apparently what came out of your prompts. I focused on age reversal (Damian oldest - Dick youngest) and Angst, but it’s more of the emotional than the physical. Hope you like it!

When Batman fell Damian Wayne felt a righteous anger run through him. It wasn’t a son mourning a father, nor sadness for the loss of a man of justice. He was angry because it meant he would never know.

He would never know if he could have beaten him. 

He had been bred to best his father, to become his father’s symbol. When he was ten his mother took him all around the globe and he learned and he developed. He became one of the world’s best ranked assassins, for what ever that happened to be worth. He had even managed to remove himself from his Grandfather’s and Mother’s spheres of influence when he realized he was being used as a pawn. He grew into his own man, but he never forgot about Batman. He never forgot about the stories of Bruce Wayne.

He was nineteen when he finally decided to confront that aspect of himself. He was too late, his timing was off. Despite his superior skills, mind and strength timing had never been his strong suit. 

The Gotham skyline was invigorating and its streets were just as filled with scum as the news lead people to believe. There was only one thing missing. 

He observed for a week. Jewelry store robberies, muggings, rape that went unavenged. 

His father, he decided, was either sloppy or had rose above small pickings such as these.

But the next week the big players came out to play. Black Mask, Two-Face. They felt free of any retribution from the Bat. Rumours swirled. The Bat was dead. The Bat was gone for good. 

But the newspapers still wrote about Bruce Wayne’s wild escapades. 

-

Wayne Manor was a fortress. 

This, Damian thought to himself, was more like it. He ran along the lawn. Cameras everywhere, alarms, traps. Nothing that would injure a civilian curious about the rich and famous, but for most it would be impossible to get anywhere close to the Manor without the inhabitancy knowing of it. 

Damian Wayne was not a common young man. 

The inside resembled any other rich person’s décor. Stylish and expensive. Boring. He crept from one room to the next. 

He didn’t expect the boy. 

Small, black haired sitting still on the couch in one of the many sitting rooms. He was probably no more than eleven. He felt a shock of jealousy. A son. He had another son? He was about to leave, regroup, but the boy suddenly turned. Damian moved to knock him out, but the boy was faster. He crouched out of his grasp and did a roll backing away as quickly as possible. He looked surprised, but not afraid. He was going on instinct. 

He was trained, of course he was trained. 

Robin. Damian told himself. Of course Robin would be his son. 

“Who are you?” The boy didn’t shout like Damian had expected. It was a rush of quiet breath. He was weary of Damian, but kept scoping the room like he expected someone else to appear. 

“Damian Wayne,” He wasn’t sure why he answered so bluntly. Perhaps his own shock and feelings of anger had blunted his senses, or perhaps he wanted to make the boy hurt as much as he hurt. 

The child was definitely amazed. He looked Damian over and met his eyes. It took him about four seconds to make a decision. He didn’t relax, but he took a step closer.

“Are you… are you here to save me?” The boy whispered.

“GRAYSON!” 

A bellow down the hall. The child stiffened, he didn’t quiver and perhaps he wasn’t afraid, perhaps the boy was fearless, but his eyes were filled with knowing. Something distinctly awful was about to happen. 

“Hide,” The boy directed in a flash, “Don’t let him see you.” 

Damian felt himself following the boy’s request—command really. Half his mind was trying to resolve the conflicting issues going on in his head, the other was focused on the situation at hand. 

The man appeared, Bruce Wayne. He had an ugly look on his face. 

“Grayson,” Bruce said sharply. Damian hadn’t noticed the child’s natural confidence until it was gone. He was already a small child, but he seemed to shrink even more. He almost curled in on himself as Bruce Wayne towered over him. Damian wondered if some of it wasn’t an act. That perhaps the child was making sure to placate Bruce by making himself a small target. 

“Yes sir?” ‘Grayson’ asked eyes down and glued to his feet. 

“You missed school today.”

The boy only nodded.

Bruce Wayne crouched and grabbed the boy viciously by the chin. “Look at me when I’m talking to you brat. Have I not been kind to you? Have I not kept you around? Let you wander freely? You repay me with your little tricks?”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to—”

A large hand grasped around Grayson’s neck. “Should I punish your older brother? I’m sure Timothy would be disappointed in your poor behaviour.” 

Grayson stiffened, he had been trying to avoid eye contact, but now his eyes were glued on his father. 

“Please! Leave him alone he didn’t do—ah.” It was the smallest of whimpers as Bruce squeezed the child’s neck. With his other hand he pinched the boy’s cheek.

“You don’t tell me what to do. Do you know why I keep you here with me? Do you know why I don’t kill Alfred and Drake? Because I remember how much he loved control. If I can’t have my revenge on him I’ll take my revenge on his family. You will stand at my side and smile that cute little smile for the cameras. Talk about what a great daddy Bruce Wayne is while I destroy Wayne Enterprises. Tell me you’re going to be a little good boy for me, Dick. Tell me how I can trust you. If I can’t beat it in to you I’ll beat it into Drake instead. He’ll suffer for your mistakes. How does that sound?”

“Ple—” Damian couldn’t stand to see the boy beg. It was wrong. It was unnatural. This foul man was not worthy of the stories his mother had fed him. This was not a man who deserved respect of a great enemy. He was a bully picking on a child.

He wouldn’t have it. Grayson had shown more worth than this man. His sword sliced cleanly through his father’s neck. He smoothly pulled the boy out of the corpse’s grip before it could fall on to him. Grayson saw everything. He screamed. Not fear, still fearless. Not anger or sadness. It was just a surprised and desperate scream.

“You’re okay,” Damian whispered holding the boy. 

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” The boy yelled. He struggled out of Damian’s grip. How could this child understand? He was saving him. He was saving him from a monster and he had shown he was better than Bruce Wayne. 

He was bitterly disappointed by his father. 

The boy started towards the body, but seemed to realize the gore and quickly turned, facing Damian again. His eyes were wide and wet. 

“He looks like him,” The boy was beyond upset, “I can’t—It looks like Bruce.”

Damian frowned minutely, “Looks like—”

The child breathed through his nose and out through his mouth trying to calm down. “You killed him.”

“It was meant to happen.”

“ _We_ don’t kill.” 

“I do.” 

Grayson shook his head, “You can’t.”

“Why not?” 

“Because you’re a Wayne.” 

It meant something. He didn’t know why, but suddenly that child’s words rocked him to his very core. 

“I’ve been a Wayne all my life,” He said. He was pointedly trying to contradict the tingling feeling that rushed through him. 

Grayson frowned, shook his head and took another deep breath. Then he turned back around towards the body and slowly approached. He was shaking slightly now. 

“You obviously haven’t lived as one,” Grayson said very quietly as he lifted keys off the body. He quickly backed away. 

“What’s going on?” He should just leave. His father’s son was none of his business. 

“He came with Bruce’s face,” The boy said still studying the corpse. Now that he had calmed down he was like Damian, analytical and detached. The eyes of a Detective. “He locked up Tim and Alfred. Said if I didn’t go along with him he’d kill them. Even though I knew it wasn’t Bruce I had to pretend—I’m not glad he’s dead, but at the same time I—Bruce would be disappointed if he were here. I should have stopped you.”

“You didn’t know,” Damian said simply. The boy had been begging for the life of his family if Damian understood the situation correctly. 

“He’d still be disappointed.” 

“So who is he?”

It wasn’t his father, but the man was Bruce Wayne’s double.

“Thomas Eliot. He was a childhood friend of Bruce, but he’s insane. Blamed Bruce for everything bad that had happened in his life. He wanted revenge.” 

The boy turned to face him again. It was a critical eye, wiser than an eleven year old boy should be able to look.

“Are you really Bruce’s son?”

“Yes.”

“He didn’t know, did he?”

“Hard to believe Batman would miss something like that, isn’t it?”

Grayson didn’t look surprised by Batman’s name being dropped. 

“He wouldn’t let you use the name Wayne if he knew what kind of person you are.” 

“Such cheek,” Damian snorted. “You should be more grateful that I ‘saved you’ like you asked me to.”

The boy scowled, “I didn’t ask for your help! I was ascertaining what you were doing here! We could have waited and planned. Saved Tim and Alfred and then locked him up for what he’s done. Instead you killed him. You can’t take that back.” 

“Don’t be a child.” He stood solidly. The boy in front of him moved around, such energy. Despite his cool sky blue eyes his emotions were running hot. Damian stayed detached. 

“I’m not being a child,” The boy sounded frustrated. “I’m being his student. I’m telling you his teachings.” The boy started walking away. Damian followed. There were things about the boy that infuriated him, but he felt like there was a magnetic pull. The boy knew his father, was perhaps his half-brother, but that didn’t ring true. He didn’t call Bruce Wayne ‘Dad’ or ‘Father.’ He called him by first name, but he spoke with the intimacy of blood. Maybe just a student? This had to be Robin, Batman’s first and arguably greatest partner despite his age. It made sense that they would live together. It made sense that they might share a familial bond, but Damian had never thought of it. He only thought of the Bruce Wayne from the stories his mother whispered in his ear when he was growing up. 

“Where is Bruce Wayne?” 

Grayson kept going through rooms until he was standing in front of a clock. He looked back at Damian and seemed unsure for a moment, but then started turning the hands.

“He’s dead.”

“That wasn’t Bruce Wayne though—”

“A week ago. Cl—Superman said he saved everyone, but no one will ever know it. Tim thinks he’s still alive, but everyone else… they have the body. Bodies don’t lie. We can’t have Bruce Wayne and Batman die the same day I—I guess we have another body to bury thanks to you.” 

“Batman’s not confirmed dead though.”

“Tim’s been trying to… he’s good, he tries, but he’s not Batman. He works hard, but he’s only been here for two years. He’s not ready and I—I’ve known Bruce for five years, but I can’t do it. I can’t be Batman, I’m not ready either. I can’t even fill in the suit. Batman’s going to die—no, Batman’s already dead.”

The clock opened revealing a secret passage. 

Grayson glanced back at him. He looked too serious for eleven. 

“You’re showing me your Batcave?”

“Yes,” Grayson said reluctantly, “Because… he would want me to try…” He nodded to himself, “He’d want me to teach you.”

Damian snorted, “You have no idea who I am, Grayson.”

“Assassin, League of Shadows and apparently Bruce Wayne’s son. Doesn’t mean you can’t learn a thing or two, right?” He forced a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. 

The boy was astute at least. 

Damian had to admit, he liked him. The child had a quiet confidence. Fearlessness and he was smart. 

As they traveled down towards the Bat’s inner sanctum he considered taking the boy. As talented as he was he wouldn’t be able to stop Damian from doing as he pleased and the boy would make a fine assassin. What better revenge on his father than taking his protégé, someone he cared for and shaping him in the opposite manner of what he was intended to be? 

“So I take it you’re Robin?”

“Yes.”

“I like your style better than the other two. The red ones. You actually seem to have some form. The Hood seems to be nothing but a glorified street brawler and the other one seems to lack any sort of finesse.” 

The boy turned frowning at him, “Those are my brothers you’re talking about.” 

“Tell me you’re not better than them and I’ll apologise.”

“…” The boy hesitated, “I’ve been with Bruce for five year and on the high wire since I was three. Tim’s only been here two years and Jason only stuck around for one…so…” 

The shadows covered Damian’s smile, “Then I won’t apologise.” 

“You’re really rude… I see the family—” the boy cut himself off. Too painful still. “Tim’s a good detective. I think he’ll be better than me pretty soon,” Grayson said instead. 

“You sound like the big brother.” 

“I’m the youngest.”

“Father trusted you the most though, didn’t he?”

“He trusts—trusted Alfred the most.”

“Out of his birds then?”

“Yeah, but like I said, I’ve been around the longest.” 

Too honest to be humble. He was probably a show-off that secretly liked to be praised, probably because his father wasn’t the type to give praise easily, but he was competent enough that the feats he performed were actually impressive. Damian was assessing him. At the same time the boy was, of course, assessing him.

“Did you come to kill Bruce?”

“I don’t know,” He answered honestly. “Perhaps.”

“You saved me.”

“I like you. I didn’t like Elliot.” 

“That’s not right.”

“Isn’t it?”

“You shouldn’t be able to kill because you dislike someone.” 

“He was hurting you and your family. Doesn’t that justify it?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“It doesn’t. Killing them just puts you down to their level. You just become the criminal you wanted to bring to justice. Besides, sometimes they reform, they can become good.”

“You think that man would be good?”

“No,” He said in a very small voice, smaller than it had been before. 

It occurred to him he didn’t know how long Elliot had the boy or what had happened in this house in the days that followed.

“What did he do to you?” 

“I don’t… want to talk about it.” 

Poor child. Mentally and perhaps physically tortured by a man who wore his father’s face. 

Damian was glad he killed him. 

They entered a wide cavern filled with computers and equipment, the Batcave.

It was… actually impressive. 

Grayson ignored the computers and trophy cases. He started to jog towards another cavern path. Damian followed leisurely glancing at the rows of batsuits and equptment. He was more curious now than anything. His father’s little ward sparked interest and could give insight into his father… and Batman. 

Soon they reached the cells.

“Dick!” 

Another black haired boy probably around Damian’s age perhaps slightly younger, eighteen or nineteen. ‘Tim’ and an old man, ‘Alfred.’ 

“Tim!” The boy’s calm confidence slipped. He ran to the glass cells and pressed his hands against them. “Are you okay did he hurt you? Alfie are you alright?”

“Fine Richard, I’m fine,” The old man said reassuringly.

Drake wore the concern of a big brother. There was obvious affection between all three despite their tiredness and tension from the danger. Again Damian was annoyed. His father had made a family without him. His father had never needed him. 

“What are you doing?” Drake asked staring at the boy with an agonizing fear. “If he catches you here—”

“He’s not a problem anymore,” Damian said holding back his smugness. At least he could be what they weren’t. Someone with enough sense to actually get things done. 

“Who’s he?” Drake finally noticed Damian in the shadows.

“Damian Wayne,” He said putting up an unemotional mask. He felt a bitter joy at the look of disbelief on Drake’s face. 

“Wayne?” Drake looked from Dick back to Damian. 

“He’s Bruce’s son, least that’s what he says. I believe him, we can figure it out once we get you out of here,” Dick explained quickly. He moved to open the cell door.

“Wait a moment.” Damian said. He put a heavy hand on the child’s shoulder. Dick frowned up at him.

“What?”

“Give me the key, Grayson.”

“Why?” Tension. The little Robin looked ready to bolt. 

Grayson was quick, but Damian had been prepared and with his weight and close proximity he had the advantage. The boy was on the ground within a few seconds. Damian popped a gas pellet under his nose.

“DICK!” Drake screamed pounding on the glass. Pure hatred in his eyes. Damian gently leaned the boy against the wall and took the key. 

“He’s interesting, well trained. Might be useful,” Damian grunted. He put in the key and stuck his arm computer into the mechanical lock. 

“Don’t you dare touch him!” Alfred growled. A respectable fighting spirit for such an old man. 

“What do you plan to do to him?” Drake stared in impotent rage. There was nothing he could do. Only watch. 

“I want to learn about my father, who better to learn from than the boy that was raised as his son, correct? Grayson offers insight. I have no interest in you or the old man. Consider me taking him as payment for getting rid of your problem. Consider it cheap. I usually come at a much higher price. Thomas Elliot is dead. I’ll leave the clean-up to you.” He pulled back, done with his programming. He picked up the boy.

“Your cell will automatically open in twenty minutes. I will be gone by then, there’s no point in trying to find me. If it reassures you I don’t plan to kill this boy. I might even return him one day, but for now he interests me and as long as he interests me, he’s mine.” 

“I won’t let you get away with this!” Drake slammed his fist against the glass again. Futile. 

“I’ll probably be able to protect him better than you. After all you let him fall into the hands of a mad man with the face of his father. I’m much more careful with my things.” 

With that Damian turned away ignoring Drake and Alfred’s shouts. The boy in his arms breathed softly in and out. He was cute asleep. More vulnerable. Dick Grayson…

He wondered what he was doing, taking a child like this. Was it really for information on his father, did he want to train the boy as an assassin or… 

Maybe he just took a shine to him.

-

“Let me go.”

“No.” 

He wasn’t screaming or shouting like another brat his age might. Grayson quietly stared at him. 

Lexcorp Tower was the best place to hide in plain sight. He was on his bed on his laptop typing furiously. He had handcuffed the boy to the ventilator. 

“Why have you taken me?”

“I never said I was a ‘good guy,’ Grayson.”

“I never said you were. Why have you taken me was my question.”

“You’re my father’s. I am curious about him.”

“I don’t belong to Bruce!”

“No, you belong to me now.” Damian clicked his computer shut and approached the child. Grayson was already working expertly at the handcuffs. It was good technique. 

The boy glared up at him. His hand was on the boy’s neck the very moment the handcuff’s clicked open.

“Behave yourself child.”

“I’m not misbehaving!” The boy protested, he sounded beyond frustrated, “And you’re not Bruce! What do you want from me? If you want to know about your Dad then let’s have a conversation! You can’t get revenge on a dead man if that’s what you’re looking for. Let me go, I promise I won’t run away.”

“You wouldn’t get far if you tried,” Damian said, but pulled back. The boy rubbed his neck. He slowly stood. They eyed each other and then the boy went to his bed and sat down. He wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the floor, he looked down, hands in his lap. He resembled the obedient child he must have been for Bruce Wayne.

Damian sat down beside him. He knew he was an imposing figure, but the boy didn’t flinch. He continued to look down at his hands.

“Your dad saved people.”

“Did he?” Damian rolled his eyes, as if he hadn’t heard the legend of Batman a million times before.

“And he never had to kill anyone to do it.”

“I’m not my father.” 

“Clearly.”

Damian snorted at the boy’s unruliness. Quite the pistol. 

“He would be disappointed in you,” Grayson told him honestly, “But he would be more disappointed in himself for not knowing, for not finding you.”

“I made my own choices.”

“Doesn’t matter. He does that for everything, everyone. If he could have he would have blamed global warming on himself…” 

“He does own a manufacturing business…”

“Hah…” the boy swung his legs. 

“You’re a good person,” he suddenly declared.

“You’ve been calling me murder and disappointment since we first met, child.”

Dick looked up, his blue eyes were wide and earnest, “Not to mention you kidnapped me, but that doesn’t mean you’re bad. Jason isn’t and he—listen. Bruce’s standard… is the one I live by. He pulled me out of a dark place, he saved me and he showed me a way to do things, the right way for me. Sometimes his way doesn’t work for people.”

“So you’re saying murder works for me and everyone can be happy doing as they please?”

“No,” The boy shook his head, “I’m saying it’s all wrong. I’m saying…you’re not meant to be a murderer Damian.” 

Damian tucked a finger under the boy’s chin and forced him to face him. He raised an eyebrow.

“How would you know?”

“You … when you killed Elliot… you seemed so sad.”

“Oh little Robin,” He let him go and sighed. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re only a boy.”

“Damian… it can’t… make you happy can it? Killing?”

“No, it doesn’t, but that’s not the point.”

“What is then?”

“Hm?”

“What’s the point?”

“Autonomy, freedom, survival. That’s what’s important.”

“I agree,” Dick nodded, “But you’re obviously not free either.” 

“Little Robin, you know nothing about me.”

“You’re a lot like Bruce. He wasn’t free either.” The little boy looked sad on both their behalves. 

“You aren’t either,” Damian pointed out feeling slightly vicious. “Not right now.” 

“Well… physically yeah, I guess you got me there,” He rubbed the back of his head and smiled. “But I’m happy and free on most days.”

“Even with Bruce Wayne dead?”

“Yeah… yeah,” He looked down, “I miss him a lot and I’m sad all the time. I lost my parents when I was eight, Bruce… he showed me how to deal with that. It’s funny it’s harder this time, but I still have joy in my life. I still have friends. I still have Tim and Alfred…and even Jason.” 

He frowned at the boy, “Why bother with them? They didn’t protect you.”

“I didn’t protect them either. I failed them. I should have been the one to know better,” He looked angry at himself. “You know when he walked in, When Elliot walked in I thought that Tim was right. Bruce had done it, escaped death, there he was. I ran to him about to hug him but—but I knew.” 

“Father was the hugging sort?”

“No, I’m the ‘hugging sort,’ Bruce secretly liked it though. For the longest time he tried not to be my father. He tried really hard for us to be ‘partners.’ He wanted to keep it separate. He couldn’t.” 

“Perhaps you have that sort of effect on people.”

“I think he was just lonely,” The boy shook his head, “I think even though Alfred loves him—loved him he was really lonely because Alfred didn’t understand. He didn’t know what it was like, losing parents, loved one in such a violent way. He let me in. Then he let Jay and Tim in. He just needed to find people that could empathise with him.”

“And that was you.”

“I opened the door to a big heart.” 

“Such a naïve child,” He shook his head at Grayson’s folly. “You were his child soldier in a war on crime. He didn’t love you. If he had he wouldn’t have let you into the field, a little boy with no sense. He took you on to keep his own shadows at bay. A conscience personified as a child.” 

“You’re just like him, you know? It’s hard to think you never met.” 

“Shut up. We’re done talking for now.” 

The boy closed his mouth and peered up at him, “Can I go home?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“You ask silly questions. It’s because I choose not to let you go at the moment.”

“I miss Tim and Alfred.”

“That’s your problem, not mine.” 

“If you’re lonely you just have to say so.”

Damian looked at him incredulously. He pulled himself back from shouting at him. “Little Robin, I have been alone most of my life. I have never been lonely.” 

The boy stood, “Maybe you’re just used to it. I don’t want to be handcuffed to the vent again.”

“You’ll only just escape it anyway.” Damian rolled his eyes. He studied Grayson once again.

“If I asked you to, would you stay with me?” He was soft hearted enough to agree Damian thought to himself. 

_He thinks I need him._

Grayson wrapped his arms around himself looking uncomfortable. He gave the smallest nod and then:

“I just want to talk to them, or write them, I don’t want them to worry about me.” 

“They’ll worry about you either way, child.” Damian looked out the window. Shadowy graceful Gotham. His father’s city. He wouldn’t stay here long. He would ask the boy his questions, get it out of his system and move on. 

“Please Damian, please let me call them?”

“You’ll stay as long as I ask you to?”

“If I said no… would you let me go?”

“Yes,” Damian decided. Grayson would be too hard to contain anyway. If the boy wanted to go he should just let him go. He shouldn’t force him to be something he didn’t want to be out of a sense of revenge. It would only be inflicting his own wounds on another. 

Grayson nodded again, a little more confident this time, “Okay I’ll stay.” 

Damian tore a piece of stationary off the bedside table and handed it to Grayson along with a pen.

The boy beamed at him. It was so sudden and different from the calm confident posture the boy had been keeping with him. This was the sunny smile of a child and it suited Richard Grayson’s face. It looked natural. He realized that the face Grayson had been wearing before was the mask of Robin. This was his first time seeing Dick Grayson and he was struck by… the differences. 

Grayson eagerly took the paper and pen and went to the desk. Damian watched still feeling a bit stunned. Bruce Wayne had found light in his darkness. The colourful Robin flying beside the Bat made sense now. 

It didn’t take long for the boy to finish. He handed Damian the note. 

_I’m okay. Please don’t worry too much. Bruce would want me to help him and that’s what I’m going to do, whether he likes it or not. Please cover for me._

_Love, Dick_

_PS: Please look after Ace while I’m gone, he’s roaming the grounds right now, Elliot didn’t catch him, but he must be lonely without Bruce._

Damian smiled and gave Grayson a sideways glance. “How are you going to help me?”

“Not sure yet, sure I’ll come up with something,” The boy shrugged. He seemed determined not to let his Robin mask drop back over his face. He kept the openness of a child even though it must have been hard. “I’m hungry.”

“Typical,” Damian rolled his eyes. “I’ll order food.”

“Can you cook?”

“…I…” Damian frowned. He did have a bit of skill, but he couldn’t remember the last time he used it. 

“Cause I don’t mind if we get take out tonight, but my diet’s pretty specific.” 

“Are you kidding me?”

The child gave him a serious look, “Damian, I run along rooftops and do acrobatic flips over buildings. Of course I’m not kidding. How do you keep in shape?”

It was slowly sinking in that he had stolen a person.

A person he would have to feed and clothe. 

“Ever heard of Crocky Crunch?”

-

They developed a rhythm of sorts. They would train together; go on runs, lift weights, spar. Now that Grayson was with him voluntarily he was chatty. He wouldn’t shut up. He would talk about his brothers and Pennyworth and his friends, but mostly he would talk about Batman and the kind of man Batman was. 

It was almost like being transported back to his childhood before things got so screwed up except the stories were different. These weren’t stories about power or intelligence, they were about mercy. A lot of news articles had described Batman as brutal; a thug who beat people up for being bad, but Grayson gave him a different side of things. Batman was a child who wanted to protect people from ever feeling the way he felt when his parents fell to the ground all those years ago. It was oddly… sad. A man of obsession, vengeance and justice and it all boiled down to a child’s wound that had never healed.

That must have been why his father had liked Dick Grayson so much. Grayson loved his parents, missed his parents, but his wounds had healed and he fought Batman’s crusade for the sake of the living, not for vengeance for the dead. He didn’t see the man that took his parents every time he met a killer…

Dick Grayson was able to see the goodness in people. He definitely saw the goodness in Bruce Wayne. 

He claimed to see the goodness in Damian. 

“What about you?” Dick was high above on the rafters of the old abandoned warehouse Damian decided to use as an HQ after Lexcorp Tower was compromised. Drake was persistent and a pest. It had taken Red Robin a week to hack into all the security feeds looking for Grayson’s face, but he had found it. Luckily Damian had his own wires plugged in. He saw the breach. He took the boy and left.

_“You know he’s only coming here for you.”_

_“You’re not ready for me to leave yet. Tim will be… I know it hurts him, but he’ll be alright.”_

“What about you?” The boy repeated. Damian drifted out of the memory.

“What about me?”

“What’s your life story?”

“I was born to replace Batman,” Damian said surprising himself by his own openness, “I realized that wasn’t what I wanted. I decided to be my own man. Be free. I never looked back. I left the League of Shadows and freelanced.” 

Grayson flipped down, “It still doesn’t look like freedom to me.” 

“What do you know?” He sent a kick towards the boy’s mid-section, but Grayson rolled out of the way and attempted to swipe his legs out from under him. 

“Lots of stuff. Look, let me level with you, you never got away from your mother’s influence.”

Damian hit him in the shoulder probably harder than was necessary, but Grayson remained loose. He didn’t tense against the force and allowed it to carry him back. He flipped and instantly sprang up again going for Damian’s elbow. 

“What do you mean?”

“You’re still doing what she wanted you to do, aren’t you?”

“You’re doing what Batman wants you to do,” Damian pointed out.

“…Okay, but Batman isn’t Talia al Ghul.” 

Damian had disclosed who his mother was. The boy looked absolutely horrified by the news. Eventually he patted Damian’s shoulder and with a solemn look said: _“ I still like you anyway. This explains a lot though…”_

Damian smirked at the memory. 

“What would you want me to do then, Grayson?”

Grayson did a running jump and landed on the other side of Damian. Instead of attacking while he had the perfect advantage he went to the radio Damian had bought for the boy’s entertainment instead. He turned it on. 

_“A killer Batman in the streets has authorities baffled—”_

Grayson looked at him seriously, “I want you to help me stop him, but I don’t want you to kill him. Do you think you can do that?” 

Damian stared at him for a long time.

“Killing’s easy,” The child continued, “You have no idea how hard it is to defeat someone while making sure you don’t apply too much force, especially when they’re trying to kill you. This is harder Damian. Don’t think mercy is easy.” 

“Why should I help you?”

“Because, I’m your friend,” The boy said simply. “And I think that’s Jason out there.” 

“…Just this once.”

-  
 _“Did you just save my life?”_

_“Didn’t he used to be taller?”_

_“Your father is gone. You’re finally Batman. His Boy Wonder is barely fit to stand at your side.”_

_“Don’t you understand Grayson? If my Father returns **we** won’t be Batman and Robin anymore.” _

_“You’re wrong… Dick Grayson is—”_

_“Fiends… 99 fiends are here…”_

_“Permission to Terminate.”_

_“If I hadn’t been angry with you… adrenaline triggered the link.”_

_“Knock Knock? Who’s here? Why it’s Batman dear!”_

_“The **Little Brother You Never Had** is on the Devil’s chopping block! The first and **Best Boy Wonder’s** in the hands of the most **Evil Man on Earth!"**_

_“Soon I’ll corrupt this man you so valiantly redeemed, little Robin.”_

_“Don’t touch him! I’ll cripple you for life!”_

_**“Brief bloom.”** _

_“With only broken memories of how it felt to soar.”_

_“Devil, meet Bat-God.”_

_“It’s **all over.** ”_

* * *

**One Year Later…**

* * *

“How did you do it?”

“Hm?” A curious head tilt. 

“How did you manage to charm the Devil?” 

Dick looked up with those clear unafraid blue eyes of his. A large playful grin broke out.

“Bruce isn’t so scary once you get to know him.” 

He gave a fraction of a hair of a smile in response.

“You might have a point, but I was talking about me.” 

“It’s my sense of humour,” Dick explained, “You find me hilarious.” 

Damian looked down at the child and couldn’t repress a more fully formed grin. 

“That must be it,” He agreed dryly. 

A child in bright yellow, red and green in front of a former assassin of the highest calibre. Damian crouched down so they were level. He held up his hand about to pull off the boy’s mask so he could see his face better. It had been too long since he had seen Dick Grayson and not Robin the Boy Wonder.

“ROBIN!”

Instantly Dick sprung back graceful and quick just as Damian’s fingers had touched his face. He landed perfectly beside Damian’s father. In a moment the cape was in front of him shielding Robin from view. The grim scowl of his father was as mad as a bat out of hell. 

“What are you doing in my city?” His father growled. 

“I can’t visit my little brother?” Damian asked glancing at the flash of yellow shielded by black. 

“No, you can’t,” his father said bluntly. The wind picked up and blew Batman’s cape astray so that Dick’s worried face was revealed. 

“Batman—” Robin began.

“You knew better,” Batman cut the boy off before he could protest. He spun and Robin stepped back in surprise. “Go home.”

“Bu—”

**“Now!”**

The little bird flew off like a shot.

“Stay away from him and _get out of my city_.” 

Damian scowled. They matched each other glare for glare. 

“I sheltered him for a year.”

“You kidnapped him and stole the mantel.”

“You were dead and he needed someone,” Damian growled, “And it was not kidnapping. Pennyworth was there. Drake made himself a nuisance. Eventually they accepted _his_ decision to stay with me. To teach me. I learned the way of the bat, _your_ ways from _him_. I have changed. I am not the person you think I am. I changed for his sake. We saved this goddamn city together. Give me a chance, Father. Your forced separation from him is unacceptable.”

Batman looked at him long and hard.

“I will not risk his life on an al Ghul.” 

“It’s true,” Damian smirked humorously, “That I am very much an al Ghul, but your ward, your adopted son has taught me to also be a Wayne.”

Batman turned, “You’re not a Wayne.”

“I will be if you only let me see him!” 

He realised he was gripping his sword. He forced himself to loosen his grip. 

Batman launched his grappling hook. 

“If you keep walking away from me I will come for him one day. You’ll have no control and I will take him from you. If you work with me you could have a say in our interactions. You could act like a father to me like you have to him.” 

“If you come near him again—”

“What? You’ll kill me?” Damian snarled.

“I’ll contain you,” And there was a darkness in his voice as deep as the cave he lurked in. 

“Are you so greedy that you’d deny me his light? Are you so afraid he would leave you?!?!” 

Batman didn’t respond. He flew off into the night and Damian stood hatred burning in his heart. 

When Batman rose Damian Wayne felt a bitter anger run through him. He hadn’t celebrated the homecoming of his father, nor did he express his happiness for the return of a man of justice. He was angry because of what it would eventually come to.

It would come to whether he could defeat Batman to get back the one he cherished.


End file.
